Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, "Japan" (part) to "Jeveros" / Volume 15, Slice 3

by Various

We may note, as we pass on, that He has again, in the exercise of His power and His sympathy, come into conflict with the established religious tradition. This freedom from the trammels of convention appears yet Attitude towards Religious Tradition. again when he claims as a new disciple a publican, a man whose calling as a tax-gatherer for the Roman government made him odious to every patriotic Jew. Publicans were classed with open sinners; and when Jesus went to this man’s house and met a company of his fellows the rabbis were scandalized: “Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners?” The gentle answer of Jesus showed His sympathy even with those who opposed Him: “The doctor,” He said, “must go to the sick.” And again, when they challenged His disciples for not observing the regular fasts, He gently reminded them that they themselves relaxed the discipline of fasting for a bridegroom’s friends. And He added, in picturesque and pregnant sayings, that an old garment could not bear a new patch, and that old wine-skins could not take new wine. Such language was at once gentle and strong; without condemning the old, it claimed liberty for the new. To what lengths would this liberty go? The sacred badge of the Jews’ religion, which marked them off from other men all the world over, was their observance of the Sabbath. It was a national emblem, the test of religion and patriotism. The rabbis had fenced the Sabbath round with minute commands, lest any Jews should even seem to work on the Sabbath day. Thus, plucking and rubbing the ears of corn was counted a form of reaping and threshing. The hungry disciples had so transgressed as they walked through the fields of ripe corn. Jesus defended them by the example of David, who had eaten the shewbread, which only priests might eat, and had given it to his hungry men. Necessity absolves from ritual restrictions. And he went farther, and proclaimed a principle: “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath, so that the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.” For a second time, in justifying His position, He used the expression “the Son of Man.” The words might sound to Jewish ears merely as a synonym for “man.” For Himself, and possibly for some others, they involved a reference, as appears later, to the “one like to a son of man” in Daniel’s prophecy of the coming kingdom. They emphasized His relation to humanity as a whole, in contrast to such narrower titles as “Son of Abraham” or “Son of David.” They were fitted to express a wider mission than that of a merely Jewish Messiah: He stood and spoke for mankind. The controversy was renewed when a man with a withered hand appeared in the synagogue on the Sabbath, and the rabbis watched to see whether Jesus would heal him. For the first time, we read that Jesus was angry. They were wilfully blind, and they would rather not see good done than see it done in a way that contradicted their teachings and undermined their influence. After a sharp remonstrance, He healed the man by a mere word. And they went out to make a compact with the followers of the worldly Herod to kill Him, and so to stave off a religious revolution which might easily have been followed by political trouble.

Up to this point what have we seen? On the stage of Palestine, an outlying district of the Roman Empire, the home of the Jewish nation, now subject but still fired with the hope of freedom and even of universal domination Recapitulation. under the leadership of a divinely anointed King, a new figure has appeared. His appearance has been announced by a reforming prophet, who has summoned the nation to return to its God, and promised that a stronger than himself is to follow. In fulfilment of this promise, who is it that has come? Not a rough prophet in the desert like John, not a leader striking for political freedom, not a pretender aiming at the petty throne of the Herods, not even a great rabbi, building on the patriotic foundation of the Pharisees who had secured the national life by a new devotion to the ancient law. None of these, but, on the contrary, an unknown figure from the remote hills of Galilee, standing on the populous shores of its lake, proclaiming as a message from God that the highest hopes were about to be fulfilled, fastening attention on Himself by speaking with authority and attaching a few followers to His person, exhibiting wonderful powers of healing as a sign that He has come to fulfil all needs, manifesting at the same time an unparalleled sympathy, and setting quietly aside every religious convention which limited the outflow of this sympathy; and as the result of all this arousing the enthusiasm of astonished multitudes and evoking the opposition and even the murderous resentment of the religious guides of the nation. Of His teaching we have heard nothing, except in the occasional sentences by which He justified some of His unexpected actions. No party is formed, no programme is announced, no doctrine is formulated; without assuming the title of Messiah, He offers Himself as the centre of expectation, and seems to invite an unlimited confidence in His person. This, then, in brief summary, is what we have seen: the natural development of an historical situation, a march of events leading rapidly to a climax; an unexampled strength and an unexampled sympathy issuing inevitably in an unexampled liberty; and then the forces of orthodox religion combining with the forces of worldly indifference in order to suppress a dangerous innovator. Yet the writer who in a few pages presents us with so remarkable a representation shows no consciousness at all of artistic treatment. He tells a simple tale in the plainest words: he never stops to offer a comment or to point a moral. The wonder of it all is not in the writing, but in the subject itself. We feel that we have here no skilful composition, but a bare transcript of what occurred. And we feel besides that such a narrative as this is the worthy commencement of an answer to the question with which its readers would have come to it: What was the beginning of the Gospel? How did the Lord Jesus speak and act? and why did He arouse such malignant enmity amongst His own people?

We have followed St Mark’s narrative up to the point at which it became clear that conciliatory argument could have no effect upon the Jewish religious leaders. The controversy about the Sabbath had brought their dissatisfaction to a climax. Henceforth Jesus was to them a revolutionary, who must, by any means, be suppressed. After this decisive breach a new period opens. Jesus leaves Capernaum, never again, it would seem, to appear in its synagogue. Henceforward He was to be found, with His disciples, on the shore of the lake, where vast multitudes gathered round Him, drawn not only from Galilee and Judaea, but also from the farther districts north and east of these. He would take refuge from the crowds in a boat, which carried Him from shore to shore; and His healing activity was now at its height. Yet in the midst of this popular enthusiasm He knew that the time had come to prepare for a very different future, and accordingly a fresh departure was made when He selected twelve of His disciples for a more intimate companionship, with a view to a special mission: “He appointed twelve that they might be with Him, and that He might send them forth to preach and to have power to cast out the devils.” The excitement and pressure of the crowds was at this time almost overwhelming, and the relatives of Jesus endeavoured to restrain Him; “for they said, He is mad.” The scribes from Jerusalem offered a more sinister explanation, saying that He was possessed by the prince of the devils, and that this was why He was able to control all the evil spirits. He answered them first in figurative language, speaking of the certain downfall of a kingdom or a family divided against itself, and of the strong man’s house which could not be looted unless the strong man were first bound. Then followed the tremendous warning, that to assign His work to Satan, and so to call good evil, was to blaspheme against the Holy Spirit—the one sin which admitted of no forgiveness. Presently, when He was told that His mother and brethren were calling for Him, He disclaimed their interference by pointing to a new circle of family relationship, consisting of all those who “do the will of God.”

Again we find Him teaching by the lake, and the pressure of the multitude is still so great that He sits in a boat while they line the shore. For the first time we are allowed to hear how He taught them. He gives them a parable from nature—the Christ’s Teaching. sower’s three kinds of failure, compensated by the rich produce of the good soil. At the close He utters the pregnant saying: “He that hath ears to hear let him hear.” When His disciples afterwards asked for an explanation, He prefaced it by saying that the inner circle only were intended to understand. The disciples might learn that the message would often prove fruitless, but that nevertheless an abundant harvest would result. For the light was intended to shine, and the hidden was meant to be revealed. Another parable compared the kingdom of God to seed which, when once planted, must inevitably germinate; the process was secret and slow, but the harvest was certain. Again, it was like the tiny mustard-seed which grew out of all proportion to its original size, till the birds could shelter in its great branches. These enigmatic speeches were all that the multitudes got, but the disciples in private were taught their lesson of hope. As we review this teaching it is very remarkable. The world of common things is seen to be a lesson-book of the kingdom of God to those who have eyes to read it. What that kingdom is to be we are not told; we are only taught that its coming is secret, slow and certain. If nature in its ordinary processes was thus seen to be full of significance, the disciples were also to learn that it was under His control. As the boat from which He had been teaching passed to the other side, the tired Teacher slept. A sudden storm terrified the disciples, and they roused Him in alarm. He stilled the storm with a word and rebuked their want of faith. “Who then is this,” they whispered with awe, “that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” On the opposite hills a solitary spectator had watched the rise and the lull of the tempest, a fierce demoniac who dwelt among the tombs on the mountain-side. He believed himself to be possessed by a regiment of demons. When Jesus bade them go forth, he begged that they might be allowed to enter into a herd of swine which was hard by. His request was granted, and the swine rushed over a steep place into the lake. It is worth while to note that while most of the cures which Jesus had performed appear to have belonged to this class, this particular case is described as an exceptionally severe one, and the visible effect of the removal of his tormentors may have greatly helped to restore the man’s shattered personality.

We must not attempt to trace in detail the whole of St Mark’s story. We have followed it long enough to see its directness and simplicity, to observe the naturalness with which one incident succeeds another, and to watch the gradual manifestation of a personality at once strong and sympathetic, wielding extraordinary powers, which are placed wholly at the service of others, and refusing to be hindered from helping men by the ordinary restrictions of social or religious custom. And we have seen as the consequence of all this the development of an historical situation in which the leaders of current orthodoxy ally themselves with the indifferentism which accepts existing political conditions in order to put down a disturber of the peace. We must now be content with a broader survey of the course of events.

Two notable cures were wrought on the western side of the lake—the healing of the woman with the issue and the raising of Jairus’s daughter. In each of these cures prominence is given to the requirement and the reward of faith—that Healing Powers. is to say, of personal confidence in the Healer: “Thy faith hath made thee whole.” “Fear not, only believe.” After this Jesus passed away from the enthusiastic crowds by the lake to visit His own Nazareth, and to find there a strange incredulity in regard to one whom the villagers knew as the carpenter. Once more we come across a mysterious limitation of His powers: “He could not do there any miracle,” save the cure of a few sick folk; and He marvelled because of their want of faith. The moment had now come when the twelve disciples were to be entrusted with a share of His healing power and with the proclamation of repentance. While they are journeying two and two in various directions St Mark takes occasion to tell us the current conjectures as to who Jesus really was. Some thought him Elijah or one of the ancient prophets returned to earth—a suggestion based on popular tradition; others said He was John the Baptist risen from the dead—the superstition of Herod who had put him to death. When the disciples returned, Jesus took them apart for rest; but the crowds reassembled when they found Him again near the lake, and His yearning compassion for these shepherdless sheep led Him to give them an impressive sign that He had indeed come to supply all human needs. Hitherto His power had gone forth to individuals, but now He fed five thousand men from the scanty stock of five loaves and two fishes. That night He came to His disciples walking upon the waters, and in the period which immediately followed there was once more a great manifestation of healing power.

We have heard nothing for some time of any opposition; but now a fresh conflict arose with certain scribes who had come down from Jerusalem, and who complained that the disciples neglected the ceremonial washing of their Opposition of the Scribes. hands before meals. Jesus replied with a stern rebuke, addressing the questioners as hypocrites, and exposing the falsity of a system which allowed the breach of fundamental commandments in order that traditional regulations might be observed. He then turned from them to the multitude, and uttered a saying which in effect annulled the Jewish distinction between clean and unclean meats. This was a direct attack on the whole Pharisaic position. The controversy was plainly irreconcilable, and Jesus withdrew to the north, actually passing outside the limits of the Holy Land. He desired to remain unknown, and not to extend His mission to the heathen population, but the extraordinary faith and the modest importunity of a Syrophenician woman induced Him to heal her daughter. Then He returned by a circuitous route to the Sea of Galilee. His return was marked by another miraculous feeding of the multitude, and also by two healing miracles which present unusual features. In both the patient was withdrawn from the multitude and the cure was wrought with the accompaniment of symbolic actions. Moreover, in one case Jesus is described as groaning before He spoke; in the other the cure was at first incomplete; and both of the men were strictly charged to observe silence afterwards. It cannot be a mere coincidence that these are the last cures which St Mark records as performed in Galilee.

In fact the Galilean ministry is now closed. Jesus retires northwards to Caesarea Philippi, and appears henceforth to devote Himself entirely to the instruction of his disciples, who needed to be prepared for the fatal issue Messianic Teaching. which could not long be delayed. He begins by asking them the popular opinion as to His Person. The suggestions are still the same—John the Baptist, or Elijah, or some other of the prophets. But when He asked their own belief, Peter replied, “Thou art the Christ.” He warned them not to make this known; and He proceeded to give them the wholly new teaching that the Son of Man must suffer and be killed, adding that after three days He must rise again. Peter took Him aside and urged Him not to speak so. But He turned to the other disciples and openly rebuked Peter. And then, addressing a yet wider circle, He demanded of those who should follow Him a self-sacrifice like His own. He even used the metaphor of the cross which was carried by the sufferer to the place of execution. Life, he declared, could only be saved by voluntary death. He went on to demand an unswerving loyalty to Himself and His teaching in the face of a threatening world; and then He promised that some of those who were present should not die before they had seen the coming of the kingdom of God. We have had no hint of such teaching as this in the whole of the Galilean ministry. Jesus had stood forth as the strong healer and helper of men; it was bewildering to hear Him speak of dying. He had promised to fulfil men’s highest expectations, if only they would not doubt His willingness and power. He had been enthusiastically reverenced by the common people, though suspected and attacked by the religious leaders. He had spoken of “the will of God” as supreme, and had set aside ceremonial traditions. He had announced the nearness of the kingdom of God, but had described it only in parables from nature. He had adopted the vague title of the “Son of Man,” but had refrained from proclaiming Himself as the expected Messiah. At last the disciples had expressed their conviction that He was the Christ, and immediately He tells them that He goes to meet humiliation and death as the necessary steps to a resurrection and a coming of the Son of Man in the glory of His Father. It was an amazing announcement and He plainly added that their path like His own lay through death to life. The dark shadows of this picture of the future alone could impress their minds, but a week later three of them were allowed a momentary vision of the light which should overcome the darkness. They saw Jesus transfigured in a radiance of glory: Elijah appeared with Moses, and they talked with Jesus. A cloud came over them, and a Voice, like that of the Baptism, proclaimed “This is My Son, the Beloved: hear ye Him.” They were bidden to keep the vision secret till the Son of Man should have risen from the dead. It was in itself a foretaste of resurrection, and the puzzled disciples remembered that the scribes declared that before the resurrection Elijah would appear. Their minds were confused as to what resurrection was meant. Jesus told them that Elijah had in fact come; and He also said that the Scriptures foretold the sufferings of the Son of Man. But the situation was wholly beyond their grasp, and the very language of St Mark at this point seems to reflect the confusion of their minds.

The other disciples, in the meantime, had been vainly endeavouring to cure a peculiarly violent case of demoniacal possession. Jesus Himself cast out the demon, but not before the suffering child had been rendered seemingly lifeless by a final assault. Then they journeyed secretly through Galilee towards Judaea and the eastern side of the Jordan. On the way Jesus reinforced the new lesson of self-renunciation. He offered the little children as the type of those to whom the kingdom of God belonged; and He disappointed a young and wealthy aspirant to His favour, amazing His disciples by saying that the kingdom of God could hardly be entered by the rich; he who forsook all should have all, and more than all; the world’s estimates were to be reversed—the first should be last and the last first. They were now journeying towards Jerusalem, and the prediction of the Passion was repeated. James and John, who had witnessed the Transfiguration, and who were confident of the coming glory, asked for the places nearest to their Master, and professed their readiness to share His sufferings. When the other ten were aggrieved Jesus declared that greatness was measured by service, not by rank; and that the Son of Man had come not to be served but to serve, and to give His life to ransom many other lives. As they came up from the Jordan valley and passed through Jericho, an incident occurred which signalized the beginning of the final period. A blind man appealed to Jesus as “the Son of David,” and was answered by the restoration of his sight; and when, a little later, Jesus fulfilled an ancient prophecy by mounting an ass and riding into Jerusalem, the multitudes snouted their welcome to the returning “kingdom of David.” Hitherto He had not permitted any public recognition of His Messiahship, but now He entered David’s city in lowly but significant pomp as David’s promised heir.

Two incidents illustrate the spirit of judgment with which He approached the splendid but apostate city. On His arrival He had carefully observed the condition of the Temple, and had retired to sleep outside the city. On the Entry into Jerusalem. following morning, finding no fruit on a fig-tree in full leaf, He said, “Let no man eat fruit of thee henceforth for ever.” It was a parable of impending doom. Then, when He entered the Temple, He swept away with a fiery zeal the merchants and merchandise which had turned God’s House into “a robbers’ den.” The act was at once an assertion of commanding authority and an open condemnation of the religious rulers who had permitted the desecration. Its immediate effect was to make new and powerful enemies; for the chief priests, as well as their rivals the scribes, were now inflamed against Him. At the moment they could do nothing, but the next day they formally demanded whence He derived His right so to act. When they refused to answer His question as to the authority of John the Baptist, He in turn refused to tell them His own. But He uttered a parable which more than answered them. The owner of the vineyard, who had sent his servants and last of all his only son, would visit their rejection and murder on the wicked husbandmen. He added a reminder that the stone which the builders refused was, after all, the Divine choice. They were restrained from arresting Him by fear of the people, to whom the meaning of the parable was plain. They therefore sent a joint deputation of Pharisees and Herodians to entrap Him with a question as to the Roman tribute, in answering which He must either lose His influence with the people or else lay Himself open to a charge of treason. When they were baffled, the Sadducees, to whose party the chief priests belonged, sought in vain to pose Him with a problem as to the resurrection of the dead; and after that a more honest scribe confessed the truth of His teaching as to the supremacy of love to God and man over all the sacrificial worship of the Temple, and was told in reply that he was not far from the kingdom of God. Jesus Himself now put a question as to the teaching of the scribes which identified the Messiah with “the Son of David”; and then He denounced those scribes whose pride and extortion and hypocrisy were preparing for them a terrible doom. Before He left the Temple, never to return, one incident gave Him pure satisfaction. His own teaching that all must be given for God was illustrated by the devotion of a poor widow who cast into the treasury the two tiny coins which were all that she had. As He passed out He foretold, in words which corresponded to the doom of the fig-tree, the utter demolition of the imposing but profitless Temple; and presently He opened up to four of His disciples a vision of the future, warning them against false Christs, bidding them expect great sorrows, national and personal, declaring that the gospel must be proclaimed to all the nations, and that after a great tribulation the Son of Man should appear, “coming with the clouds of heaven.” The day and the hour none knew, neither the angels nor the Son, but only the Father: it was the duty of all to watch.